What it is to Burn
by Wide Spread Panic
Summary: Movie-verse, set 3 years after the events of ROTF. Megatron has returned with overwhelming forces bent on terraforming earth into a new Cybertron. Follows three women's accounts of the end of the world as we know it as they try to survive an alien war.
1. In the Beginning, there was the End

Disclaimer: **Wide Spread Panic** doesn't own the Transformers or any of the people (with the exception of Panic), businesses, places mentioned herein. This is but a work of fiction spawned from my twisted little mind. Knight and Storm belong to **Chaos Knight** and **StormDracona** respectively.

Author's Note and Brief Synopsis: This is a new piece and doesn't have anything to do with the other movie-verse fanfic I'm working on. Indeed, this is a wholly different reality from that of _Slag Happens_. While both are based on the movie-verse this piece takes place roughly three years after the second movie in the year 2012, the year that, as predicted by the Mayans, would be the end of the world. This is rated T+ for a reason; namely language, violence, and some fairly dark themes. In short, it's the story of how civilization as we know it ends, as Megatron returns with overwhelming forces with revenging his fallen master as his goal. Though many more Autobots have come to swell the ranks of the Autobot forces, they are far outnumbered and their forces are scattered. Megatron not only plans on eliminating the Autobots, but is determined to strip the Earth bare, exterminating the organic insects that have cost him so dearly and terra-forming Earth into a new Cybertron from which to expand his Decepticon empire. Dark and humorous, with fluff later on, the story is told as a journal that follows the accounts of three young women struggling just to survive in a world they can no longer even recognize. Each chapter, the narrator switches as the characters "take turns" telling their story. First up is Panic. Enjoy.

* * *

WHAT IT IS TO BURN

_In the Beginning, There was the End_

_Panic._

So many thousands of years ago, an ancient civilization predicted the end of the world. The Mayans, using their superior knowledge of astronomy and mathematics, complied not only a very complex and highly accurate calendar, but also managed to predict, with chilling accuracy events that would take place far, far into the future. For years, people had pondered over how people so primitive, hell, people who didn't even have knowledge of the wheel, could be so accurate.

See, they invented a calendar that went far beyond the end of their civilization. They created a calendar that predicted the exact time the world would end. Everyone thinks the Mayans predicted the end of the world. They didn't. They predicted the end of civilization as we know it.

_And they were right._

December, 21, 2012, civilization as we knew it ended. You remember all those conspiracy theorists? The ones you used to laugh at? The ones who were always accusing the government of keeping secrets? They were right too. The United States government was keeping a very big secret. Living among us, hiding in plain sight, were things not of this world. Hell, not even of this solar system or galaxy.

Most people went on with their lives for years, oblivious and content to stay that way, until the shit hit the fan. I was there when it happened. I was caught on what turned out to be the front lines. If you have time to waste reading this, then maybe things worked out. Maybe there's peace and you can afford the luxury of curling up with a good book. I wasn't the only survivor after all. Hell, maybe you're reading this years and years from the day. Maybe no one even remembers the wars or the end of the world.

This journal, well it wasn't my idea. Knight's the one that suggested we take turns writing what we remember so that if things go to hell (more so than they already have, mind you) people would know. It's only natural, the desire to leave something tangible behind. If nothing else, this little, battered journal serves as a record that these things did happen and that we did exist. Storm was the one who decided we should use "code-names" as protection if it were to fall into the wrong hands. I don't see how that'll do us any good. If it does fall into the wrong hands, we're probably dead anyway.

I can't explain it, but putting it down in ink makes me feel better. So, no, my name isn't really Panic, but get used to it. After all, I don't know you. I don't know if you're one of _them_. We agreed to take turns to write our stories in the lulls, as rare and precious as they are. The other two, they decided I should go first. I was there when it all went down. Just remember, I'm warning you now. It's not pretty, but the truth rarely is.

I remember I was still a student then, content in the knowledge that after my internship was done, I'd have my Masters degree. I'd gotten interned to work and learn from the brilliant minds of a local military installation specializing in aerospace engineering. The place was commonly referred to as Aero by the locals. It was a sprawling complex, out in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by trees. It was a beautiful place, before it all burnt down. I guess, looking back, I should have realized something was wrong with Aero. Even for a military installation, security was extraordinarily high. I was excited, though so I forgave any oddness. I understood that there were places I wasn't allowed to go, and I never thought to question that.

I met Tanner there, the man who'd become my mentor and my friend. He was endlessly patient, a trait uncommon to me, so I respected him for it. He was always calm and seemed to know exactly what was going on at all times, and his composure, I naively thought, was unshakable. He'd been the one to greet me and tour me around the base. I remember that day very well. I was excited, so damn excited and I didn't have a clue yet.

"What's over there?" I asked, nodding at a group of larger buildings. We were on the south end of the installation, were the primary research was done. One of the buildings was tall and long, oddly rounded shaped.

He looked at where I was pointing. His blue eyes were squinting and as cold as his steel grey short cropped hair. "That's the wind tunnel. You'll see more of it later. Most of the research here is actually things we've been contracted to do that has some connection with the Air Force."

I nodded as we walked past several run-down looking squat buildings and another very tall building. I craned my head to look up at it as we passed. There were several such buildings on base, places that seemed to have been abandoned for some reason or another. I mentally made a note to ask about them later. I noticed, in passing, how thick the walls of one such building were. The concrete walls had to be at least six or seven inches thick. I wondered what they were testing that would require such precautions.

The first couple of weeks passed without incident. I followed Tanner and his team, observing their work and taking notes. Everything was by the book and normal, looking back I guess it was the lull before the storm. We were working in one of the smaller reinforced buildings that day and it was hot. The older buildings weren't heated and they were bitterly cold. It was late December and everything was covered in frost and even more beautiful than ever. I can't remember why, but I left the building we were working in, perhaps to get some fresh air.

I hugged my arms around myself as I walked around aimlessly. This part of the base was largely deserted, so I don't know what drew me to the tall building nearly at the tree line. I heard voices as I got closer and the door was open. Innocently curious, I peeked in. Several men in haz-mat suits were working on some kind of engine, poking and prodding the wiring.

_Why would they need haz-mat suits?_

I jerked as a hand closed on my shoulder, yanking me away. I spun around, coming face-to-face with Tanner.

"The hell do you think you're doing? This area is restricted," he snapped and for the first time, I saw him angry.

I backed away, putting some distance between us, startled by the fury in his voice. "I didn't realize," I said warily.

He grabbed my arm and began pulling me away, his expression severe. "It's posted," he said, not looking at me, he pointed out the sign.

I flushed, peeking at him sheepishly through my bangs. "Sorry."

"You pull that shit again, and you're going to be looking elsewhere to finish your internship," he growled and he shoved me ahead of him.

I blanched as we walked back to our building. "Sorry," I muttered again, ducking my head.

I looked over my shoulder at him from the corners of my eyes and he was glaring. After that, I avoided the tall building. I was still curious, but not enough to risk blowing everything I'd worked so hard for.

Things went uneventfully for a while. I studied and learned everything I could.

I can't say why, but twenty-first felt funny. I woke up feeling uneasy and unnerved for no reason. It seemed that there was a tension hanging in the air, on everyone and everything. A feeling reminiscent of the way the air feels just before a lightning storm. Everything felt sharp and crisp.

On the base, it seemed that everyone else felt it too. People were on edge and snapped at each other. Something was coming and we could all feel it on an instinctive primitive level. I can remember exactly what I was doing when it happened, but I was in one of the large buildings that was housing a jet engine at the time; the building Tanner's office was in.

I was holding a clipboard, making notes and following an older man, named Michaels. He was pointing out how different components of the engine reacted under stress. Several other men were working clustered around a bank of computers along the wall. It was all so quiet.

And then we heard something thud against the roof, loud enough to make us all jump. We all looked up at the ceiling, startled and confused.

"A tree—" One of the men at the computer started to say, I think his name was Phillips.

He was cut off by the sound of the metal roof being ripped free. It happened in an instant. One second there's a roof, next—nothing. I was aware of the sound my clipboard made as it hit the concrete floor and the loud scream that tore from my own throat. Something was looming, looking, in the hole it'd ripped in the roof. Something with the blazing demonic red eyes of something born from the very depths of hell.

Someone slammed into me and I hit the concrete hard with a strangled thing. The monstrous thing was using its horrible curved claws to make the hole bigger. The other people were screaming and yelling now in a panic. An arm tugged me behind a table. Tanner, _Tanner_, was pulling my stunned form to safety. I opened my mouth to start screaming again and he clamped a hand over my mouth.

"Shut up! _Shut up_, dammit," he hissed in my ear.

With a loud thud, the thing dropped into the building with us. Tanner seized me by my collar and half-dragged, half-shoved me in a desperate frenzy for his little office. I heard the screaming behind us as the panicked engineers tried to flee. I also heard a gun firing; it didn't last very long. From the corner of my eye, I saw the man with the gun—that thing just sort of sneered at him and stepped on him like he was a bug. I'll never be able to erase that image, the look of realization on the man's face seconds before he died.

I didn't want to die that way.

Tanner was taking something from his desk and pushing it into my numb, shaking hands. He pulled a small box from another drawer and shoved that at me as well. I didn't even look at either item. I was still seeing that man's expression and the blood and nothing else. With a sort of morbid fascination, my mind was replaying it for me over and over.

"We're all going to die," I said suddenly, my voice flat and level as if I was stating the weather.

He looked at me funny, but chose to ignore my comment. "Don't take the main roads on base, skirt the ditches and keep low. Go for the woods, there's more cover and they might be too big to maneuver in there," he said. "Wait until its clear and then run."

That sank through my haze, I lifted my wide eyes to stare at him. He had to be in his late forties I realized then. He looked so much older, every line on his face seemed to be intensified. "Are-aren't you coming too?" I asked, my voice trembling and shrill.

"I have a responsibility here, you don't," he said and I slowly shook my head.

"I can't do this alone," I said and I suddenly seized his collar desperately, nearly dropping the box. "Don't you dare just leave me alone!"

He shook me off smiling sadly. "Keep to the woods," he simply said. He reached past me into the case against the wall and pulled out a weapon. He nodded at me and he was running back into the main building, back into that nightmare. The last I saw of him was his back, his hands adjusting his grip on the rifle.

I wanted to run after him. I didn't want to be alone. I could see through the window of his office, an orange glow and knew something was on fire not too far away. I could hear and feel explosions. This was war. He was right, I wasn't a soldier. I was a civilian and I had no business in this mess.

I finally looked down at my hands to see what he'd given me and stared. A little handgun and a small box of bullets. I stared at the pathetic little weapon and then to my horror, I burst out laughing.

What the hell good would a handgun do against those things?!

"God!" I gasped out amid the hysterical laughter, tears streaming down my face. I laughed with the gallows' humor of the damned and without realizing what I was doing I found myself on my knees, my hands clutching the gun and bullets pressed to my face.

"Shit," I snarled, hiccupping and snickering. I heard more screaming then and gunfire. I guess some more soldiers had arrived from another part of the base. The sounds were sobering. I didn't want to die there and I'd be damned if I was going to go out on my knees laughing like a lunatic. "Screw this." I stood unsteadily and glared at the gun. Hell, I'd never fired a gun—I didn't even know how to load it.

I heard a low thud and bit back a scream.

I started running then; away from the screaming and the fires and the death. I ran from the building, using the darkness to my advantage and keeping low to the ground. I thought I was doing fairly well for someone who'd never had to run for their life before. I raced down a narrow gap between two smaller buildings, keeping my back to the glow of the fires. I raced around one of the buildings towards where I thought the woods were and slammed into a leg that abruptly stepped into my path. A freaking big leg too, I might add.

I landed on my butt, dropping my gun and the box of bullets and my head slowly tipped back to stare at the wide, hell-fire eyes staring down at me. The thing was huge. And I think it was just as surprised as I was.

I made a strange snarling sound, like metal grinding together and reached for me, but I was already lurching to my feet and snatching my gun and a handful of bullets; the damn box had opened when it'd hit the ground.

I darted between the thing's legs, running full tilt for the tree line. I mentioned before that Aero was surrounded by trees; well, they're rather close together and they're big trees. No one had ever bothered to thin out the dead trees or the brush here to avoid the risk of fire. I was small enough that I could scramble into the woods amid the trees.

My pursuer wasn't.

I wasn't sure how many of the things there were. I only knew this wasn't the same one as before because where that one had been largely silver, this one was mostly a purple-tinged black.

I tore through the woods, adrenaline pushing me to run faster than I knew I could. Branches whipped against my exposed skin and snagged at my clothes and roots tried to trip me. I all but crashed through a bramble, cussing loudly in terror. Behind me, I could hear the thing snarling and the unmistakable sound of trees snapping as it tried to pursue. I was too deep in the woods then and safe.

At least, that's what I thought. How the hell was I supposed to know the tree line abruptly ended or that there was a ditch on the other side? I never stood a chance, running like I was. I've never been too athletic and I tripped, probably over my own treacherous feet, and pitched head-first into the ditch. I thrashed upright and realized I was out in the open.

I was exposed.

"SHIT!"

Looking around, I saw a large concrete drainage pipe jutting out of the side of the hill. I ran for it as fast as I could. The pipe had to be at least five feet across, and the mouth of the pipe was covered in metal wiring. I wrenched at it, tugging desperately.

I heard a crash behind me and redoubled my efforts in a panic, no pun intended.

"Heeeeeeere little organic… come to Skywarp," the voice that rang out in the darkness was male, deep and laced with a metallic overtone that chilled me.

With one last yank, I managed to pull a corner of the wiring loose. It was a tight fit, but somehow, I managed to wriggle through. I lost a sneaker and the wiring cut my arms, shoulder and back up pretty bad, but I made it. No sooner was I inside the pipe, than a familiar purple-black set of legs stomped past. I scrambled further back into the pipe, biting down on my fist, still clutching a handful of bullets. I wanted to scream, but somehow I kept quiet. I don't think I even breathed until the thing, the Skywarp, moved on.

I wriggled back deeper into the pipe, curling into a ball and sobbing silently. The bottom of the floor was covered in a layer of something wet and highly unpleasant smelling that I didn't want to think too closely about.

I didn't sleep at all that first night. It wouldn't be the last time I was too scared to sleep. I listened to the explosions and gunfire, but it didn't last long. I didn't know who'd won, but I had the feeling it wasn't us. I was too terrified to venture from my hiding spot to see what was going on.

It was the longest, damn night of my life.

* * *

_Panic looked up, a pen clutched in her teeth and her brown eyes narrowed. She reached for the little make-shift knife of hers, but relaxed as she recognized the approaching figures. Knight and Storm were back, carrying whatever they'd found on their patrol. She brushed her tangled, brown hair from her face and slowly closed the dirty little journal she'd been writing in._

"_Any sign of them?" She asked the other two women. All three of them were thinner, more ragged looking than when everything had went to hell. They were slightly tougher and more resilient than they had been too._

"_The Autobots or the Decepticons?" Storm asked, frowning. "Didn't see either faction. I think we've been abandoned again."_

"_They wouldn't abandon us," Panic muttered as she stood._

_Knight shrugged her thin shoulders. "We can't stay here. We need to move again. We've been here a lot longer than we should have," she said, looking at the other two questioningly._

"_We were supposed to wait," Panic protested stubbornly, folding her arms across her chest._

"_The longer we wait, the higher the risk of getting caught by the enemy." Storm nodded, deciding for the little group. "We move again. It isn't safe staying in one place too long."_

"_We were supposed to wait," Panic repeated in a mutter to herself as they set about gathering their meager possessions. She picked up the little journal and scowled._


	2. Waiting on the End, like its only Natura

Disclaimer: **Wide Spread Panic** doesn't own the Transformers or any of the people (with the exception of Panic), businesses, or places mentioned herein. This is but a work of fiction spawned from my twisted little mind. Knight and Storm belong to **Chaos Knight** and **StormDracona** respectively.

Author's Note and Brief Synopsis: This is a new piece and doesn't have anything to do with the other movie-verse fanfic I'm working on. Indeed, this is a wholly different reality from that of _Slag Happens_. While both are based on the movie-verse this piece takes place roughly three years after the second movie in the year 2012, the year that, as predicted by the Mayans, would be the end of the world. This is rated T+ for a reason; namely language, violence, and some fairly dark themes. In short, it's the story of how civilization as we know it ends, as Megatron returns with overwhelming forces with revenging his fallen master as his goal. Though many more Autobots have come to swell the ranks of the Autobot forces, they are far outnumbered and their forces are scattered. Megatron not only plans on eliminating the Autobots, but is determined to strip the Earth bare, exterminating the organic insects that have cost him so dearly and terra-forming Earth into a new Cybertron from which to expand his Decepticon empire. Dark and humorous, with fluff later on, the story is told as a journal that follows the accounts of three young women struggling just to survive in a world they can no longer even recognize. The women deal with both Autobots and Decepticons and see the darker nature of both and of other humans. Each chapter, the narrator switches as the characters "take turns" telling their story. Special thanks goes out to Chaos Knight for RPing the first bit of this chapter out with me.

* * *

WHAT IT IS TO BURN

_Waiting for the End, Like its only Natural_

_Knight._

I don't even know why I agreed to this. While it was my idea, I didn't think I'd have to tell my part of this mess too. Surely the accounts of the other two are enough-

They didn't think so. In fact, they _insisted_.

Panic says it helps to put it all down. I'm not sure if I agree with that. Writing it down... remembering it; it's like _reliving_ it all over again and some things are best left forgotten...

_They insisted though_, so I'll tell my part in this mess as best I can.

I remember very well when it all happened. It was toward the end of December when the shit hit the fan. I drove to the local base like I had done every month for Drill. Being in the National Guard you don't see a whole lot of action. We're rarely deployed and I was one of the few in my squadron that had yet to be deployed period. I knew some of the guys in my squadron were in South Africa at the time and I wished I was with them.

What I would have given to be there with them. I longed for the excitement and the chance to see more of the world. But no, I was one of the unlucky few to have to stay behind and do training exercises.

When I got up to leave for the base that morning it was 23 degrees out and I was expecting to be trained on some of our heavy-duty snow plows. It started off like any other "fun" day on base. Roll call, shop debrief, computer based training, clinic appointments... Just the regular, same-old, same-old. I was one of the lucky ones in my shop, being a heavy equipment operator; I didn't have anything on the schedule that day.

It wasn't like the military would just let me get away with not doing anything, though.

My Master Sergeant, Sgt. Spence, decided to give me a one-on-one lesson on one of our industrial sized snow plows. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. A snow plow? _Real_ fun, all sarcasm intended, but if you haven't seen the industrial-sized ones, you just can't get it. See, the snow plows we had were huge, I mean, like they could eat a regular snow plow (if such a thing was possible).

After the first initial lesson, he let me loose on one of the less used taxi-ways to get some practice and to generally keep me clear of anything I could potentially harm. The night prior we had gotten a good two feet of snow and it was still coming down pretty hard, so it was good practice...

While it lasted.

I was making a second pass near the fuel-shop hanger when the first missile struck. All I saw was the rising plumes of smoke and fire as the barrage consumed the F-16s that lined the parking apron. I remember being surprised, trying to figure out what was happening as the fire quickly spread. Its one thing to be trained to deal with that kind of shit and quite another to suddenly get thrown into it. I guess its just human nature, but it had never really occurred to me that the base could actually be attacked. We were not all that important of a base to begin with, and we were pretty much out in the middle of nowhere.

The radio in the plow's cabin immediately erupted into a chorus of orders, yells, and panicked calls. The radio chaos only lasted a few short seconds before it all disappeared into white noise. I stared out the window wide-eyed as several large silhouettes loomed out of the smoke and fire. It was like a nightmare only so much worse, because I knew it was really happening.

I could only watch, horrified and helpless as the giant… _things_ simply tore into the hangers easily ripping anything apart that got in their path. I could just make out Security Forces troops swarming, fire arms blazing as they made their way towards the chaos. One of the red-eyed giants raised its clawed hand, and the hand suddenly reformed into something akin to a gun and with one simple, blindingly bright blast just... erased them from existence.

A choked scream became stuck in my throat at the sight I'd just witnessed. _Gone!_ Like they were never even there! That's when I saw them. The rest of my team was rallying and improvising an attack. Two more snow plows, the road-graders and the wheel-loader parted through the flames that were spreading hungrily to engulf anything in their path and my team rushed the giants.

"_No!_"

I guess I was too shocked at the time to scream anything else. I immediately threw the plow into gear and rushed back to where my comrades, my friends, and mentors were rushing into the fray. I never made it there.

Something plummeted from the sky then, and it crashed just beside my plow with enough force to create a crater. The shockwave was too much for the top-heavy snow plow. I heard the sound of metal groaning and glass crunching as the snow plow toppled onto its side. I screamed, granted it was a useless human defense mechanism, but I couldn't help it. I had never been more terrified in my entire life.

At that moment though I was damned grateful for the seat belt I was wearing. If it hadn't been on, my head would have been smeared across tarmac. I was in the process of trying to gather my wits and to get my seat belt off to get out through the shattered window, when a "foot," a huge _freaking _mechanical foot, suddenly came into view. I instantly froze, remembering the weapon one of those things had used on the Security Forces people. I really didn't want to find out what getting vaporized felt like up close and personal.

I heard a strange, metallic sounding growl then. Like someone or something was snarling into a synthesizer. Following the growl came some strange garbled, electronic speech or something, then the next thing I knew, the foot suddenly sailed right at my plow. It struck just behind the cabin and the plow was kicked roughly several hundred feet, flipping side over side until it rested on its top, as I screamed like I was being slowly, brutally murdered.

I don't really remember all that happened after that. What I do remember though was me whipping forward and smashing my head against the steering wheel during the first roll. Let me tell you, it freaking hurts to brain yourself on a steering wheel. When the snow plow finally came crashing to a stop on its roof. I realized the seat belt must've snapped under the strain, because when consciousness came to me again, I woke up gasping with the steering console pinning my shoulder and part of my chest. I could barely breathe and could only watch helplessly the scene going on not too far away.

Through bleary, cloudy eyes I stared through the shattered window and watched as a different giant raised its gun-arm on the wheel-loader and fired. The resulting blast flung the wheel-loader into the fuel farm silos, sending the command center, security forces, and the civil engineering squadron up into flames. No, that doesn't give it justice. You'd have to have been there to see it. The silo blew up, bits of concrete and steel flying, flaming debris flung sky-high and engulfing everything in the vicinity.

There's just no way to describe it, the smoke, the explosions, the scream, gunfire, heat—hell, it's beyond describing.

My mind began to rebel then, too tired and strained to deal with all of it. I was crying quietly, forced to watch as those things, those monsters eradicated everyone with the same sort of indifference someone might have for squishing a bug. That made it so much worse, that damn indifference. I think I could have coped with hatred or disgust, but those things just went around in a cold, clinical methodical way killing and laying waste to the base.

My eyes grew heavy as something warm slowly dripped down my cheek. With a cold, shaky hand I reached up tentatively and wiped what was on my cheek off. Looking at my hand I could see blood... _'My blood.'_ My tired-pain-filled mind supplied that fact with detachment. My hand fell back to my side as my eyes slid shut. I was so tired. I fell unconscious as the small army of metal giants spread out and started attacking the surrounding area, setting everything ablaze...

I didn't know how long I laid there unconscious but when I came to my breathing was ragged, my hands were stiff from the cold and the smell of smoke hung heavy in the chilly air. Blinking my eyes several times to clear them, I tried again to wriggle out of the crushed cab to no avail. I could think of some pretty horrible ways to die, I have a very good imagination. Yet, right then, I couldn't think of anything worse than being trapped upside down to either bleed to death or slowly freeze, whichever came first. Panting I managed to peek out of the window to see that the clouds had cleared and the snow had stopped.

I remember hazily thinking, that it was a pretty day to die at least.

Shivering violently, I tried once to escape the metal cage I was trapped in. The temperature was surely dropping and I was wounded. If I didn't get loose, I'd die and suddenly I wasn't okay with that. My efforts redoubled, as I began wheezing and cussing under my breath.

"_Help!_" I tried to scream then in desperation, but it came out as a mere croak. "Somebody! Please, is anybody out there?!" I listened, but couldn't hear anything except the faint sounds of a fire crackling. I realized with sobering horror that I was all alone. I was the only one left. I cursed and thrashed again, fighting to not start crying.

Sudden sharp pain lanced through my pinned shoulder and I froze, blinking back tears as my vision temporarily did a white-out from pain. I shuddered again and it seemed that I saw something moving from the corner of my eyes.

I went deathly still, terrified in case it was one of those things and it had heard me. As it skirted around the damaged, still smoldering buildings, I noticed something different about it. This one had glowing blue eyes, rather than red. I didn't know if that fact was relevant or not, but my fading oxygen-deprived brain decided that the blue was very pretty.

A beam fell from one of the collapsed buildings with a thud and the new monster froze, looking around and straightening. As I watched, the thing sort of… shrank. It looked the same, but it was now only seven or eight feet tall. It hunched its shoulders and slinked forward again. It looked, strangely enough, like it was hiding, trying to avoid being seen. Who it was hiding from, I wasn't sure.

I must have made a sound then, I didn't think I did, but its head snapped around to stare at the upside-down snow plow I was imprisoned it. It looked around again, and slowly began approaching me, its form tense.

Unarmed and trapped, I could only watch. As it got closer, I could make out details; I hadn't had the time or the interest in studying the other monsters before. I'd been too scared. As it got near, I realized that while it was bipedal like a human, it was made of metal. It was some sort of robot, but far too advanced to be anything human-made. I almost wanted to laugh. I was going to die, killed by a kid's tinker toy from hell.

It was close enough now that all I could see were its legs from my upside-down vantage point, then it crouched down, peering in at me.

I wasn't sure what I'd expected, but the almost-human face looking in at me, its mouth drawn down into a thin line of displeasure-that wasn't it. Moving in slow movements as though it was afraid of frightening me, it reached out to grip part of the cabin and began carefully pulling the metal back. I mean, literally pulling it back with this loud shrieking sound of protesting metal. It did it with the ease of someone peeling an orange.

It reached for me then and I wanted to cringe away, but couldn't. He, for I had decided its face looked masculine enough to warrant the pronoun, gripped the steering column and began bending it away from me. I felt my trapped body begin to slide free, but he caught me before I could collapse onto the plow's roof.

I gave a muffled shriek of pain as he pulled me loose and my vision flared white again. I sobbed as the white, black and red giant gently laid me down in the snow. A green bar of light flashed suddenly across my body and he crouched down and gripped the bottom of my digi-camo shirt and began ripping long strips of material away.

"Easy there," he said, the words startling me. His voice was deep, resonant and laced with a metallic timbre. The others hadn't spoken English, so I was shocked that this one did. I winced as he gripped my head and turned it towards him and began using the strips of cloth to wrap my bleeding head. "We must stop this leaking. Your kind tends to off-line when you lose too much of that red fluid."

I felt like laughing. I'd been nearly killed by one of the things and now another was playing nursemaid treating my boo-boos. I didn't laugh though; I started crying again, broken hiccupping sobs that startled him for a moment. He stared at me uncertainly and reached out to pat me on the head as if I was a small child and then he resumed what he was doing.

"Why?" I asked, my voice broken and cracking. It hurt to talk, hurt to breath. I turned my head to watch him.

"Why? Why am I helping you, you mean?" He asked, sitting back on his heels, the motion disconcerting and far too human. "This is not your war. Your kind should not have been involved. Both factions think they are in the right, but they are wrong." His expression seemed to darken, his frown suddenly more pronounced.

I shook my head and slumped backwards, tired. I didn't know what he was talking about. It sounded like he had some sort of personal grudge. I stared at the blue sky above me. I was cold. I was so cold…

I must have fainted, because I can't remember anything else of that day. I do remember that that wasn't the "why" I'd wanted to ask him. I'd wanted to ask why this was all happening.

I would learn the truth soon enough and wish I hadn't.

* * *

_Knight growled softly and threw the little journal at Panic, who made a soft sound and caught it. "Shit. I don't want to write any more right now," the younger girl muttered, stalking over to the corner of the ruined building Storm was currently keeping watch from._

_Panic watched her go and thought she saw the other girl rub at her eyes as if she were wiping away tears. She stared down at the journal miserably, wondering if insisting she write her part had been a mistake. They all had scars from their experiences, but she felt the best way to deal with them was to face them head on._

_Storm looked at Panic almost accusingly and the other girl met her stare-for-stare. Storm reached out and patted Knight's shoulder comfortingly. Panic looked away in irritation. Even after traveling with them for nearly two months, the other two didn't quite trust her. As if the collar around her neck wasn't enough of a reminder of the things she'd done, their sideways looks hurt more than she'd ever admit._

_Panic knew they missed their allies. She missed them too. She had felt safer with the three aliens with them. Now that they were gone, she felt nervous and vulnerable. She really hated that feeling._


	3. Red, the Blood of angry Men Black, the

Disclaimer: **Wide Spread Panic** doesn't own the Transformers or any of the people (with the exception of Panic), businesses, or places mentioned herein. This is but a work of fiction spawned from my twisted little mind. Knight and Storm belong to **Chaos Knight** and **StormDracona** respectively.

Author's Note and Brief Synopsis: This is a new piece and doesn't have anything to do with the other movie-verse fanfic I'm working on. Indeed, this is a wholly different reality from that of _Slag Happens_. While both are based on the movie-verse this piece takes place roughly three years after the second movie in the year 2012, the year that, as predicted by the Mayans, would be the end of the world. This is rated T+ for a reason; namely language, violence, and some fairly dark themes. In short, it's the story of how civilization as we know it ends, as Megatron returns with overwhelming forces with revenging his fallen master as his goal. Though many more Autobots have come to swell the ranks of the Autobot forces, they are far outnumbered and their forces are scattered. Megatron not only plans on eliminating the Autobots, but is determined to strip the Earth bare, exterminating the organic insects that have cost him so dearly and terra-forming Earth into a new Cybertron from which to expand his Decepticon empire. Dark and humorous, with fluff later on, the story is told as a journal that follows the accounts of three young women struggling just to survive in a world they can no longer even recognize. The women deal with both Autobots and Decepticons and see the darker nature of both and of other humans. Each chapter, the narrator switches as the characters "take turns" telling their story. Please read and review.

* * *

WHAT IT IS TO BURN

_Red, the Blood of angry Men; Black, the Dark of ages Past_

_Storm_

Well, I guess it's my turn. You've probably got some questions… you want to know who I am and what my part in all this is.

To tell you the truth, I'm not even sure of that myself. I'd like to say I had some grand plan on how to fix the whole mess. I'm the leader, at least as far as Panic and Knight are concerned, and I should have a plan. Don't get me wrong, plans are great. Living is better though. And these days, that's my top priority. Keeping myself and the other two alive.

Find food, find uncontaminated water, don't freeze to death at night, don't kill over from heat-stroke in the day and most of all—most importantly, don't get caught or as Panic puts it, avoid becoming organic splatter art.

I'm not asking for much really. I've always been fairly practical.

The beginning though—that's what you want. A story with a coherent and cohesive beginning, middle and end. I can give you the beginning, no problem. The end…

I'm still working on that. The truth is I don't know how this will all end. I have to pretend for the others though; pretend I know exactly what I'm doing, pretend I'm not scared, and pretend I have a plan. Knight needs the reassurance now that our alien allies, our protection, are gone. Panic… well she's taken a very fatalistic outlook. She thinks we're all going to die anyway and I think her only priority is figuring out how she can take out as many of those things… those_ Decepticons_ as possible with her when she goes.

Maybe she's right. Maybe this is all a waste of time, but it's a distraction. A distraction from worrying about where are next meal will come from, if a certain path will lead us straight into an ambush—human or alien. And I suppose, even though its sometimes painful to recall the events, there is something… freeing about it too.

To just let go.

I digress, though. You're probably less than interested in my philosophy, so I'll get to what you want: my story.

I wasn't anyone special—not rich, not famous. I owned a stable. I taught people to ride horses and took bored tourists into the mountains. Not what you were expecting?

December 21, 2012. The day it happened, the day that would later become known as The Reaping among the survivors, the day that would be referred to as 1 A. C. After Civilization—

It was sunny. Like nature was having a private laugh at humanity's expense. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was so sunny and warm, beautiful. I'd just gotten back from taking a group of four tourists trail riding.

Had they enjoyed the outdoors? Had they enjoyed the beautiful blue sky, crisp mountain air, scenery or the honor of seeing this part of the country on horseback? No. The twelve year old daughter had whined the entire time that her cell phone had no signal. The younger brother had grumbled about how slow the horses were and that he'd wanted to ride go-karts. Their mother had muttered about bugs and had spent the whole trip alternating between muttering unkind things about the horses and fussing at her brats. The father had seemed genuinely enthusiastic about the trip, but spent a good deal of his time berating his family.

After spending an hour with them, even my stoicism was beginning to fail. I'd spent the entire trip back fantasizing about leaving them out in the woods to play with the wonderful, rabid wildlife.

The ingrates.

I put up the equipment, rubbed the horses down and flopped on the little couch in a corner of the stables that had been taken over by my employees and the few volunteers as a break area. They'd set up a little TV and I'd bought them a used refrigerator. Someone had left the TV on a football game.

It was late in the day and I was the only one there. Technically, I could have told those tourists we were closed—which was the truth. I was thinking that I really should have, when the TV abruptly went to static. I frowned at it, but the work phone went off then.

It was the tourists; the father told me he thought his daughter had dropped her phone out of her pocket at some point on the ride. He asked me, amid the unmistakable sounds of the girl throwing a tantrum, if I'd go look for it. I agreed and he said he'd swing back by in the morning for it. Oh, goody. I just couldn't wait to deal with them _again_.

It was starting to get dark out, so I opted for one of the two ATVs I kept at the stables. I seriously doubted I'd find the cell phone, even with the help of the headlights on the ATV. With my luck, I'd run the blasted thing over without meaning to. Still, I'd given them my word that'd I'd look for it. And I keep my word.

The setting sun made everything look surreal and eerie, I remember feeling instantly unease. Earlier, the woods had been alive with sounds. Now, it had become deathly quiet. We get some big animals out here. Bears, mountain lions, and coyotes to name a few. Most will keep away from humans, but sometimes people had run-ins. I had been lucky thus far, but I knew the woods and I knew the sudden hush was a warning. Something was wrong somewhere.

Hell, the little animals knew before we did. They knew what was coming.

I heard the jets before I ever saw them, three of them went by strafing the mountainside with a deafening scream of powerful engines. They passed by close enough to send a flurry of dead leaves down on me. There's a military base a little ways away. I've run into some of the personnel before. I didn't like them. I was suddenly very glad I'd taken an ATV and not one of the horses, because I was fairly sure a horse would have spooked and thrown me. Those blasted jets had no business flying that low. I figured they were rookies or something, showing off.

I curled my lip in disgust in the direction they'd sped off in and then continued on up the winding, bumpy trail. Until I heard it.

It was kind of like a low 'whumph' sound and the headlights on my ATV flickered and went out, the engine sputtering. I tried restarting it to no avail, then the sky was set ablaze.

That's the only way I can describe it. The whole darkening sky was filled with light and heat and noise. Above it all, I could hear the screaming engines of the jets. I sat paralyzed on the ATV, my mouth falling open. My first thought was a terrorist attack. Why here, though? Why now? I slowly slid off the ATV and scrambled for a rocky outcropping and made my way on top of it. I had a pretty good view of the city in the valley below and the military base. I got a front row seat as the trio of jets rained fire and death down on the valley.

I don't know how long I stood there watching that horror, before I began backing away. The next thing I knew, though I was running deeper into the woods in a panic. I just wanted to get as far away from the terror in the valley as I could.

I didn't realize it then, but there was nowhere I could run. There was no longer any place that was safe.

I don't know how long I ran. I ran until I was sick and I collapsed against a tree, pulling my legs up against my body and trembling. Every little sound made me twitch. It took me a while to realize I couldn't hear the jets, the explosions or any other sign of the destruction I'd witnessed. I wondered if it was over. I wondered how many had died. Whether anyone I knew had been caught in that horror. Then I was crying, pressing my face to my knees and wrapping my arms around myself.

I heard a soft crunch then and went still, trying to silence my unsteady breathing. Another loud crunch, and then something massive and inky black, a darker shadow amid the shadows stepped into my line of sight. The only bit of color I could see where two bright blue glows high up on the thing. It was crouching amid the trees as though, like me, it was hiding. It moved a little further, its attention on the valley that could be barely seen through the tree cover. I held my breath. As it moved, I could see glimpses of it in the dim moonlight. The tree branches dappled its form, so I couldn't make out too much. It was big, it was bipedal, and it sure as hell wasn't human.

It froze then and its massive head with the two glowing blue eyes turned toward me. I went rigid in terror, ready to flee or attempt to. Moving very slowly, it lifted a finger to its lips as though to shush me and turned its head back to the valley.

I obeyed, more out of fear of what it'd do if I didn't than any real desire to be helpful.

I didn't realize it then, but I'd end up forever in the debt of the strange entity standing only yards from me.

* * *

_Storm paused, scowling at the journal accusingly. She missed him and it irritated her to feel so defenseless without him. The three aliens had been traveling with them long enough, that they'd come to rely on them. She hated that feeling of dependence. She'd never let the others see it either. She was the leader, she was the strong one. She considered scribbling out the last line she'd written, but with a sigh, put the pen aside._

_Panic was crouching in the shadowy mouth of a hole blown into the ruined building they'd holed up in for the night. She'd taken first watch and was scanning the streets below continuously. If it wasn't bad enough that they had to be alert of the other faction, the Decepticons, they also had to be on the lookout for Reapers and other humans who'd allied themselves with the aliens._

_Knight was curled up in a corner sound asleep. Storm envied the other girl her ability to sleep all through the night. She was lucky to get a few hours; she was too paranoid of being ambushed to sleep. The other, Panic, also rarely slept. A fact that was evident in the dark circles under her dark eyes that peered out from under her shaggy bangs._

_Storm reached back fidgeting with her long braid out of habit. What she wouldn't give for running water. She sighed heavily and stood up to go tell Panic it was time to switch. _

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for reading and please review.


	4. Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm

Disclaimer: **Wide Spread Panic** doesn't own the Transformers or any of the people (with the exception of Panic), businesses, or places mentioned herein. This is but a work of fiction spawned from her twisted little mind. Knight and Storm belong to **Chaos Knight** and **StormDracona** respectively.

WHAT IT IS TO BURN

Ch.4

_Counting Bodies like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums_

_Panic_

I woke up terrified and confused in darkness, sitting propped painfully upright in something unpleasantly cold and wet. The smell was the first thing I was aware of as I struggled to remember where I was. It all came back to me in a rush and I doubled over, fighting the urge to retch. It all felt wrong. As terrified as I was, came the even more frightening realization that I'd have to leave my hiding place. My legs didn't want to cooperate when I tried to stand, so I ended up half-crawling, half-dragging myself to the wire grate at the end of the pipe. It was still dark out side my shelter, the air thick and choking with the smell of smoke. I carefully prized the grate further open, trying not to cut myself any worse than I had in my mad scramble into the pipe. I more fell out of the pipe onto the cold ground than climbed.

It took an effort to make myself sit up and take stock of how badly I'd cut myself before. There were several gashes, only one felt bad and it was on my shoulder in a place I couldn't see to assess the damage. The skin felt tight and hot, though. My limited medical knowledge basically summed that up to probably being a bad sign. If it was infected, I was pretty much screwed out here.

That thought pulled me up short. How bad was the damage? How far had those alien monstrosities, for they were far too advanced to be man-made, spread? If I followed the road from the base, I knew my way well enough to walk back to town. I wasn't sure if I could walk that far, though. I wasn't honestly even sure how far it was. When you always had a car to rely on, distance seemed trivial knowledge. My car—

I grinned suddenly, fishing in my pocket until I pulled out my keychain and I was limping through the still smoldering ruins of the tree line back toward the base. I slowed down as I got closer, common sense finally kicking in and warning me to be cautious. I hesitated inside the line of trees, close enough to see the buildings. Or I could have seen them if they were still there. They'd flattened the buildings, smashing them flat. I could see shapes on the ground that my mind readily identified and I trembled.

It looked like the sort of scene they show on the news feeds. The wreckage of a tornado, a hurricane, an earthquake, but so much worse for the fact that it wasn't anything like those. This hell had been wrought deliberately. It took an effort to make myself step out of the trees, keeping low like a frightened wild animal as I scurried for the first ruined building, pressing up against it and slinking along the walls. I didn't look at the shapes on the ground. I couldn't.

What had we done to deserve this, anyway? I wondered as I slowly picked my way through the debris towards where I thought the parking lot was. Okay, so maybe humans are capable of some pretty chilling, heartless things ourselves, but did those past transgressions against our own warrant this?

A low whine escaped my lips as I found the lot. Almost all of the cars had been systematically crushed into uniform flat pancakes. One red metal disc may have been my car, I wasn't sure. A loud 'whump' sound had me on all fours, scrambling between two flattened cars.

Seconds later, a large pair of black and purple feet walked past.

"Find anything?" I jerked slightly, startled to hear the same deep voice from before. It was him, the Skywarp thing. I heard a loud whine, like a powerful engine and then a muted thud as something touched the ground not too far from my hiding spot.

"Filthy insects moved it again," snarled another voice, this one higher with a condescending rasp to it. "And _Mighty_ Megatron insists its here still."

"I'm not picking up anything," grunted the first voice. "Little fraggers have too many little places to crawl in and hide."

"We should have just leveled this miserable mudball like I'd suggested, but no, Megatron insists we find it. As if the fleshlings could figure out its secrets."

I held my breath as the feet moved back towards me. _Damn, damn, damn!_ If they'd just leave, I could run.

"He wants to take his time," the thing called Skywarp responded. I was too afraid to look, but it sounded like he was standing right over me. "He's got a grudge against them."

The other made a sound remarkably like a derisive snort. "Of course he does. To think our _esteemed _leader was brought low by one puny little organic. It's disgusting."

They both went silent suddenly and my blood ran cold.

"Look, Screamer, a little spy," crooned Skywarp and one of the metal hunks was roughly slung away, leaving me exposed laying on my belly and staring up at them.

_Oh, dear God._ They'd seen me.

"Ugh," the other one snarled, hissing at me. "Disgusting! Squish the disease-ridden thing."

"Hey, now. They can be useful to barter with," Skywarp grumbled, reaching for me as I made a desperate bid for freedom. His heavy clawed hand slammed into my back, pinning me to the cold pavement and knocking the air from my lungs. "Barricade uses them and Hook loves to have new specimens to dissect. I bet I can get some high-grade for it, anyway."

I screamed as the claws caged me and lifted me quickly enough to make my head spin. I shuddered, hanging limp in his claws.

"You would keep the nasty thing," the one called Screamer sneered, narrowing its hell-fire red optics at me.

I scrabbled, shoving at the metal fingers, trying to wriggle free. "Help!" I screamed, pushing and arching my back, anything to nudge the constricting metal apart enough to free me.

"Panicky things aren't they?" Skywarp mused, suddenly opening his hand and I screamed again as I fell only to land hard on my back in the palm of his other hand. I whimpered, my shoulder throbbing. "Twitchy too," he added, inching a finger towards me and I rolled away from it, shrieking as I rolled off his hand and barely managed to dig my hands into the seams between his metal skin. I hung there, clawing madly for purchase as the two monsters watched with disinterest. A clawed hand seized me by an ankle and hauled me upside down to its eye level. I shuddered again, tasting bile.

"Keep that thing away from me," Screamer hissed, his armor plating bristling.

"I might keep it myself, it's kind of amusing. Stupid, but amusing."

Screamer rolled his optics as I whimpered weakly clinging to unfeeling metal and trying not to vomit.

* * *

Skywarp carried me in his clawed hand, swinging back and forth at his side. I'd never been afraid of heights. I'd always fearlessly tackled heights, but dangling high above the ground, swinging back and forth was far beyond my comfort zone. I was strangely reminded of a ride I'd taken once at an amusement park in the mountains. It had been shaped like a huge boat and had swung back and forth like a pendulum overlooking a steep drop into nothingness. I'd hated it immensely, but I'd rather be on that ride again than dangling this way, subject to the whims of the monstrosity carrying me. I'd never felt more helpless in my entire life.

I either dozed off or passed out from sheer terror and nerves in the process. I came awake to loud, raucous laughter and instinctively tried to cringe away, only to find myself still trapped in Skywarp's claws.

"Hardly worth it," a new voice commented. "Such a scrawny specimen. I doubt it could last very long. For that price, I need far sturdier organics."

I was raised into the air nauseatingly fast. I risked a glance at the new alien. It leaned closer, frowning at me in obvious disapproval as I squirmed trying to get away. "It's sturdy," Skywarp growled, shaking me slightly. I yelped as he seized my wrist between two massive talons, stretching my arm out painfully and twisting. "If nothing else you could dissect it."

"As amusing as that is, I need _live_ specimens, Skywarp." The massive monster shook its head and moved away, its feet thudding against the ground.

_Dissection_. I shuddered, biting back bile at the thought. They'd been talking about cutting me up like I couldn't hear them, as if I was too stupid to understand.

"Well, frag. You're worthless."

I glanced up at the menacing angular face, willing myself to say something, anything, but I can't. I raise my hand and gave him the one finger salute; I don't know if he understands the gesture, but he seemed to get the gist that I wasn't complimenting him.

"Looks like it's just you and me, fragger," he snarled, a nasty smile stretching his features crudely as he bared a row of sharp metal teeth.

He started walking again, seeming to go out of his way to sling the hand I was in. I took in the unsteady scenery as best I could from my changing vantage. It looked like we were passing through what had been a town at one point. Buildings were smoldering and lay in ruins and Skywarp maneuvered among them absently.

When I saw the police car we were approaching a tiny spark of hope burned in me, only to be shattered as the cruiser seemed to break apart and fold in on itself, rising to form another, smaller alien machine. I gaped at the transformation in wonder and fear. Is that how they'd seamlessly infiltrated our defenses? How the hell else could giant robots go unnoticed? I felt sick all over again.

"What do you want, you Pit-spawned glitch?" The black and white machine snarled in a deep rough voice like gravel, making no pretense of friendliness.

"Is that any way to greet your old friend? Especially when I have something that might interest you," Skywarp practically purred, holding me up to dangle by an arm as I kicked angrily. "You know how to train them to hunt, right?"

"If you're trying to earn favor with Megatron, I'd find a better Fetch than that. It certainly doesn't look strong," the black and white machine grumbled, reaching out to poke me with a claw as I thrashed.

"Hey, I picked this human in particular," he snapped, shaking me in the air like a rag doll as I screamed. "Just outfit it with a collar."

"Do you even know anything about the organics? They're not so easy to train and they have a stupid streak." The smaller machine reached and snatched me away, slamming me to the ground and pinning me with a hand. "But if you want to waste the time and effort training it, so be it."

I wriggled, thrashing as the monster's hand opened up to reveal smaller, sharp articulate joints and claws. In one of the sets of smaller claws was a hinged ring of metal. I didn't know it then, but my life was about to go straight to hell.

* * *

_The journal was a comforting weight in her makeshift pack as she unsteadily climbed. The two ahead of Panic hadn't said a word for hours and the silence was eating at her. It reminded her too much of the time before when she'd been alone; when silence could be as deadly as anything else in an environment that was suddenly alien and threatening. She was unable to stand it._

"_Eli Manning," she blurted out with a nervous laugh, fighting to not let the fear show in her voice._

_Storm and Knight both glanced questioningly at her over their shoulders. "What?" Storm demanded, looking baffled._

"_Who," Panic corrected, forcing a sly grin onto her face. "He was a football player, very nice."_

_Knight snickered as Storm slowly shook her head. "Never watched much football," she said shrugging._

"_Me neither, but men in tight uniforms…" Panic grinned leering as Storm rolled her eyes with a mutter of, 'Dear, Lord.'_

_Knight burst out laughing and clapped a hand over her mouth in alarm, looking quickly around. "I always thought Viggo Mortesson was good looking. You know, from the Lord of the Rings?"_

"_You're both hopeless," Storm groaned as the two older women snickered. _

"_You mean to tell me there's no one you'd drool over?" Panic jeered, poking the younger woman in the shoulder. "Admit it. You know there is." When Storm didn't answer, the older woman made a face. "Hmm, Johnny Depp?" _

_Storm rolled her eyes. "For crying out loud, he wears more makeup than I do."_

_Panic cackled, and then all three went silent at a soft rustling sound like metal sliding against metal._

"_Damn," Knight whispered as all three slunk behind a half-collapsed building. _

"_Reckon its one of them?" Panic asked, pressing her back to the rough brickwork. _

"_Be quiet," Storm hissed._

_Panic only shut her eyes. "Who's afraid of the big bad Con," she half-whispered, half-sang, earning herself a shove._

"_I said shut up!" _

_Knight screamed suddenly as a shadow fell across the three of them and they looked up in alarm. "Panic, if we live," Storm seethed, "I'm going to kill you."_


	5. Reach For the Sky

Disclaimer: **Wide Spread Panic** doesn't own the Transformers or any of the people (with the exception of Panic), businesses, or places mentioned herein. This is but a work of fiction spawned from my twisted little mind. Knight and Storm belong to **Chaos Knight** and **StormDracona** respectively.

* * *

WHAT IT IS TO BURN

Ch.5

_Reach for the Sky_

_

* * *

_

_Knight_

My hands shook as I cupped them together, dipping them into the pothole and shakily drinking the dirty water. It had a bite to it, a taste I couldn't determine and really didn't want to analyze too closely, but it was cold. The type of cold that burrowed into you and froze you from the inside filling you with ice, hardening the marrow of your bones until everything ached. I was too damn young to hurt like this. I coughed, water dribbling down my chin and cradled my side, eyes closing until the spasm passed.

He crouched nearby watching me dispassionately. His face, the planes that melded perfectly together to form it, looked solemn to me, his icy bright eyes intent on me. He hadn't said anything further as he'd made his way with me through the ruined city. This was the first time we'd stopped and I had the distinct feeling it was more for my comfort than his.

"This is war? You're fighting each other?" I asked when I was sure the coughing was finished. The words came out harsh, not sounding like my voice at all.

He shifted, settling from his crouch to sit cross-legged, his strange joints bending in ways I wouldn't have imagined possible. How he'd made himself smaller I didn't know. Somehow it seemed trivial to me to ask. Even smaller though, he was around nine feet tall standing and he towered over my thin frame.

"It's not a war so much a bloodbath," he said slowly, his eyes roving around, taking in everything. Even this he did indifferently, cataloging all he saw. "There's something here both sides want. Your kind, you're just ants in the middle of the battle field."

"Flattering," I managed, forcing a scowl onto my face, the expression painful.

The alien, who'd introduced himself as Drift, shrugged. He'd bound my wounds, the bandages clumsy and slipping, but I couldn't even understand why he'd bothered in the first place. "It's all wrong."

My eyes flickered to his face, so human it was disturbing. "Hmmn," I managed, my throat burning and feeling like sandpaper. "We'll fight. It's the way we are."

"You won't win," he replied, head tipping to note the few flickering streetlights reluctantly coming alive in the growing dusk. There was no venom or arrogance in his voice and I wish there had been. It would have been too easy to hate him if there had been.

"I don't think it's ever been about the winning, really," I mumbled, my legs drawing up to my chest. The movement brought another wheezing spasm from me; the coppery taste of blood in the back of my throat. "It's about… image, I guess? You fight because you know you can't not fight."

His electric eyes moved back to mine, narrowing and focusing as if he was taking me apart. Dissecting me and weighing the bits that made up me. "Fighting for a belief without any real hope of winning." It came as a statement, not a question and I slowly nodded.

"Humans, we're screwed up that way. Smart enough to know better and too damn stupid to care." I licked my dry lips, capturing another handful of water and noisily drinking it.

He rumbled, a deep sound from within him as he straightened with a fluid grace I found enviable. I wondered if he was laughing at me, but didn't ask. "I'll take you to your own kind," he said. "You need tending."

My head snapped up, the sudden movement dizzying as I stared up at him. A tendril of fear wormed its way into my belly. There was something else there too, though. "I can help you," I said slowly, pushing my aching body upright. "I want to help."

His expression was dubious as he looked down at me. A nine feet tall living alien machine staring down a woman only a little over five feet tall. I could feel my resolve hardening into a core of stubbornness at his doubtful expression.

"Give me a chance. That's all I'm asking." The words rasped out of me painfully. "I don't like being indebted to people-aliens. I'm not helpless. I can help."

His expression, what I could see of it, went oddly blank and closed off. He made a soft rumbling sound. "Everyone deserves one chance," he said and I wasn't entirely sure he was talking to me. There was a sudden almost vulnerability to him and made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

He turned and began to walk. Without a word, I fell into step behind him. It was beginning to snow again, the delicate whiteness spiraling from the sky around us. I found myself wishing my gear was warmer, but maybe there would be time to find supplies.

The streets we walked were familiar, my streets and yet I didn't know them. The smell of fire and the reek of sewage were strong in the air. Snow covered shapes here and there half-seen. Shapes I didn't or couldn't bring myself to look too closely at. Shapes that were too broken and human for comfort. The damage to buildings and vehicles along the street was too selective to be an act of nature. The damage deliberate and cruelly sadistic.

"You said there were two sides fighting here," I blurted into the silence when it became unbearable. "Whose side are you on?"

He tipped his head, looking at me over one shoulder. "Neither at the moment."

"Ah." I struggled, limping to keep up with his long smooth strides, determined to not be a burden or hold him back. "So… what are you?"

"I'm Drift."

I couldn't help but smile, as I trudged through the snow and slush, feeling it starting to soak into my Converse combat boots. "I'm…" I hesitated, my name on the tip of my tongue. Without even knowing why, I found my lips forming my call sign. "Knight. Call me Knight."

He didn't respond, moving relentlessly forward and I wondered if he'd heard me or not. When he stopped, it was so sudden I nearly walked into the back of one of his legs. He spun in a crouch, his red and white armor a blur and one arm snagged me around my waist. Before I could make a sound, he threw us both sideways and darted around an overturned semi trailer. I wheezed, finding myself facedown in the muddy snow, Drift's huge form crouching over me, keeping low.

I heard it then as my mouth opened to protest. A low whine filled the air, the sound like that of a powerful jet engine, growing louder and louder. There was a thud that made the ground tremble under my fingers. I cautiously edged forward, twisting as Drift attempted to grab my leg. Laying flat on my side, I peered around the trailer.

The thing that had made the noise looked like nothing so much as a giant alien Triscuit in purple and black. Its face was all harsh lines and angles and I tensed as it unceremoniously dropped something that staggered and fell onto the ground. It was human, a battered looking woman and she staggered upright, head down and lips moving soundlessly.

The Triscuit snarled something, the words harsh and unintelligible and the woman covered her ears, backing away as if the sound hurt her. A clawed hand swung and she darted away, wild-eyed. Around her throat, dull gray metal gleamed. Her hands moved spastically and fumbled at her sides, drawing two curving sickle-like blades free. She staggered through the snow, her eyes unfocused as she moved unsteadily as if drunk away from them.

The purple and black alien watched her, its expression cold, before throwing itself into the air and with a shriek of metal rearranging itself into something else and speeding away.

I tensed to run for the disoriented woman, but Drift's hand landed heavily on my back pinning me. "Stop," he growled, his eyes narrowed.

"Something's wrong with her," I protested, wriggling to get free and he snarled softly.

"Exactly._ She's_ wrong." He nodded slowly and I turned my head to watch her continue up the street, head down and swinging from side to side as if she were hunting.

Hunting for other humans? Hunting her own for that thing? My stomach lurched disgustedly. This was wrong. "Shouldn't we do something?"

"We keep moving once she passes. Otherwise we'll be covered in Cons." He ground out, moving off me, keeping low. He moved quickly back between two buildings and I hesitated peering after the stumbling figure in the distance, before following Drift.

I didn't know where we were going, but he seemed to. I followed in his tracks as it snowed down on us both, his strange metal skin somehow not icing over. The town was quiet; death quiet. The type of quiet that settles and blankets everything where you can't make a sound because it would feel like sacrilege. There was a peacefulness to it too, though. Even among all the death and destruction, walking beside an alien who probably wouldn't give a damn either way if I died or not, I felt at peace.

"Can you fight?"

The question out of the blue made my head turn to look up at him. He wasn't looking at me, though. His bright eyes were focused straight ahead, but I still had the sensation that I was being scrutinized. "I've had some combat training," I admitted.

He rumbled again, the sound carrying somehow through the snowy concrete and through the soles of my boots. "It'll do, little one" he said.

We found an abandoned furniture store; the first level had collapsed in on itself, but Drift found a hole and carefully widened it enough to allow his large frame to wriggle through. I followed in his wake, trusting him not to lead me into a building that was about to collapse. The building wasn't much warmer than outside, but it did have the advantage of sheltering us from the snow. I wasn't entirely sure that being inside was more for my comfort than his, but it seemed like it must be.

Drift was taking care of me.

* * *

_Knight put her pen aside, stretching and hearing something in her back pop. Her other arm was wrapped in makeshift bandages. She felt suddenly alone even though she wasn't. She turned her head, seeing Panic, the crazy one standing up._

_The girl, only oldest by a year or so had charged the damn Decepticon sentinel, screaming bloody murder. It had been a suicide run and they'd all knew it, but her crazed attempt perhaps to redeem herself if only a small bit had been a distraction. The sentinel had batted her aside like a ragdoll, the girl tumbling in a disturbingly boneless way to land flat on her back. It had given Storm time to grab Knight by her collar and haul her out of harm's way. The sentinel had loomed, a giant segmented many-legged centipede of metal, mandibles clicking loudly._

"_Run you idiot!" Storm roared as Panic still lay flat on her back, dazed or confused or maybe just not caring if she died or not._

_And then a shadow had fallen across them. _

_Knight looked over at Drift and the other two aliens. How they had known where the girls were was beyond her, but she was thankful for their timing. They could defend themselves fairly well from human survivors, but the Con's machinations were an entirely different story._

_The three were sitting in a circle, the ruined form of the sentinel not too far off, a hulking corpse of machinery. As Knight watched, Panic went to sit like a puppy at the feet of the one called Wheeljack. She didn't say a word and he made no move to acknowledge her presence at all. _

_Knight found herself rising slowly and moving closer to them, seeing Storm doing likewise. Drift's head turned to look at her and to Knight it felt strangely like coming home for the first time in a long time._

_Panic's head turned slightly, eyes half-closed and lips curving. She could practically hear the other girl thinking 'I told you so. I told you they'd come back.'_

_Trailbreaker's head turned as Storm sat down nearby, back stubbornly straight and face set. "We think we've pinpointed our leader's location," he said softly. "It's a long way from here. The travel will be hard on you." There was a question in his voice and in the bright optic lenses that were his eyes. His silkily black armor reflected the moonlight dimly._

"_I go where he goes," Panic said quietly, nodding her head at Wheeljack. "I'm dead anyway." The white, green, and red alien made a sound of argument, but she only ducked her head, eyes blank._

_Storm chewed on her bottom lips, shifting and feeling all the accumulative little aches that she was far too young to be feeling. "We're safer with you guys. We'll end up getting picked off out here alone," she said slowly, her wild long hair hanging down her back in an unkempt tangle._

_Knight twitched, feeling all the eyes on her, awaiting her decision. She knew what her answer was and knew they knew it. There was nothing to gain in walking away now. She'd already chosen her side and threw her lot in with them. "I'm with Drift."_

_Drift's electrically bright blue eyes seemed to dim with an emotion too fleeting to name. "We move in the first light then."_


	6. Together

Author's Note: Transformers of course doesn't belong to me and I'm borrowing Storm and Knight for this fic. Sorry I haven't updated in so long n.n;

* * *

Chapter 6

Together

_Storm_

He didn't look real standing there as the city below went up in flames. The visor that covered part of the demon's face glittered darkly reflecting the carnage below as I felt my breath leave me in a whoosh. My legs trembled, but I couldn't run.

"Don't make a sound."

The words in English made me jerk as it spoke them, its voice a deep rich rumble. I found myself nodding as my whole body tensed like a coiled spring with the need to run away. A massive hand stretched out slowly, palm up and open as though I was a stray cat he was trying to reassure. I kept out of range, wary and terrified, feeling wetness trailing down my cheeks.

I don't know what triggered it, the thing hadn't moved, but like a startled deer, I bolted. Crashing through the underbrush, I didn't move two feet before a massive weight had me pinned against a tree. Huge fingers curled around my face before I could scream and warm air blasted my back with a loud huff as the demon kept me still.

Peering over a shoulder, I saw it wasn't looking at me, but rather looking back down the hill as though worried. When it spoke again, the vibrations of its voice made my teeth clatter. "You do something dumb, you'll give away both our positions, babe. You do that and we both die. Be_ quiet_."

I tensed as its warm bulk shifted away slightly, fingers slowly uncurling from my face. I jerked away, eyes wide and breathing quickly as I got a good long look at the thing. It looked like a metallic monster, like a futuristic robot from hell. It was humanoid in shape, with a discernable head and an unnervingly human face. If it had eyes, the glowing visor covered them and I was suddenly sure it did. It looked like it was sizing me up as well. It had two arms and two legs, its entire frame thickly armored and as impenetrable looking as a living tank.

"Please," the word rushed past my lips on a squeak, shaming me with its weakness. "What's going on?"

It didn't answer me, but only stared down below, as though memorizing what was happening. The jets were streaking away, leaving fat plumes of white in their wake. The utter suddenness and indifferent brutality of the attack chilled me to the bone. The machine watched on silently, noting everything. Without a word, it turned away, moving with surprising silence through the woods.

Without thinking, I hurried after it. "Wait!"

It spun, bits of armor rising like an affronted cat's fur as a low dangerous rumble escaped its broad chest. I stumbled to keep from plowing into it, a startled gasp bubbling past my lips. For a moment we stood there in silence, the tension between us almost palpable.

Then he, because he sounded so much like a he, turned and started walking, calling to me over one shoulder. "Name's Trailbreaker, babe. If you're coming, keep up."

Startled, I fell into step behind him, jogging to match his massive strides.

It would still be days before I gave him a name to call me in return. Still longer before despair and realization that what I'd just seen had played out everywhere and that nowhere was safe. Even longer before I'd grudgingly think of him as anything other than one of _them_.

* * *

_Shifting slightly in Trailbreaker's interior, Storm yawned as she felt him slowing. The grey sky made it impossible to tell what time it was and she supposed it was just as well. Time was a luxury they needn't worry about. What did time matter anyway when there was no society to care about it. She sighed as the massive Pathfinder rolled to a stop, the driver's side door opening and letting in the cold air. With a stiff grumble, she slid out, turning to watch the other aliens come to a stop and let out their passengers._

_Stepping back clear of him she watched quietly as he unfurled with soft mechanical sounds to his full height, his visor glowing slightly before he shifted size. _

_He looked down at her in silence and she wandered what was going through whatever constituted a mind in there. Was he wandering why he'd come back for them? The question certainly plagued her. Why did they even care?  
_

_Seeming to come to a decision, Trailbreaker headed away and she fell in line behind him, aware of the other four following. They had reached another city, crumbling buildings loomed up around them, alien and unrecognizable. There were signs though that something was changing. The strange predatory thing like a giant centipede had been the first sign, but now Storm looked more closely around her. The sky stayed the same drab gray no matter what time of day it was now and the air had a funny bite to it that made her chest ache. On some of the buildings, a sheen of what looked almost like liquid silver glimmered._

_Terraforming._

_The word came out of nowhere to her as she peered a little closer at the silvery stuff. Were the aliens changing Earth to resemble their world? As she reached out to touch the stuff, it quivered n bunched as though seeking the heat of her body._

_Wheeljack and Drift both snarled behind her. "Don't," Wheeljack warned as she peered back at him._

"_What is this stuff?"_

_To her surprise it was Panic that answered, her voice distant. "It's like… a fungus… living metal symbiote thing. Like nanotech it self-replicates, eating away at organic material." The older girl's eyes took on the blank look Storm had come to associate with her thinking of her previous master, Skywarp. Studying Panic, she couldn't help her eyes from flickering to the silver curve of metal that coiled around one ear. The thing was a translator of some sort she knew, implanted directly into her skull._

_She stiffened as Wheeljack gently prodded Panic's shoulder, snapping her from her haze. She turned her eyes away, grinding her teeth as Panic smiled worshipfully up at the large alien. As far as Storm was concerned, the idiot had traded one alien master for another._

* * *

_Traveling on foot was slower, but safer in ways. This size, they were less likely to be noticed. Still, the aliens seemed agitated and Storm was exhausted from lack of sleep. For the past half-hour, they'd been listening to something that wailed and keened from somewhere, the screams disturbingly human. When the sound had began, she'd wanted to go investigate, but all three aliens had overruled her, calmly saying the sound wasn't human made._

_She felt the fine hair on the back of her neck bristle as the wail changed pitch suddenly, becoming higher and childlike. Shuddering, she wandered what had been spawned by the aliens that sounded like that._

_The sound of debris crunching underfoot ahead of them made her stiffen and fall back, but all three aliens continued forward and the girls reluctantly followed their guardians._

_She tensed fighting the urge to run as two more aliens rounded a burnt out building. One was shorter than the other and appeared to be yellow under all the grime, the other was taller and black and a dirty white. What shocked her though was the small group of people following behind them like a flock of sheep._

_The two groups merged without any discussion, the five alien mechs spreading out to keep the humans in the middle as they kept moving. Introductions were whispered and short._

_The new group consisted of a man calling himself Michael who claimed he was a doctor, two women, Clarissa and Jordan who had both been lawyers in the same firm, and three children._

_The children were what fascinated Storm. Somehow, the fact that any children had survived was a relief to her and made her feel hopeful. The youngest, a boy named Nick was dragging a stuffed rabbit with him, the older two were a brother and sister named Ben and Rose. She watched the trio as they kept to the very center of the humans, as they walked on in silence. _

_Watching the kids... maybe there was hope._


End file.
